


Tongue to Cheek (and ash to dust)

by sammyspreadyourwings



Series: Queen Prompts [24]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Break Up, Hot Space Era, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 04:37:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18275930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammyspreadyourwings/pseuds/sammyspreadyourwings
Summary: Brian wants to know why Freddie wants to party every night. Freddie doesn't know why Brian cares.





	Tongue to Cheek (and ash to dust)

**Author's Note:**

> The only Frian I've written and it's this angst fest.  
> Anyway, prompt from tumblr

Brian isn’t sure what started the argument, only that this one is reaching the point of breaking voices from screaming. It was rare any of them fought like this, no matter how often they were at each other’s throats.

“Oh, and like you’re so perfect?” Freddie spits, “you’d lock yourself in the bedroom for a week because of your moodiness.”

“I don’t care about the vices Fred,” Brian replies, pinching his nose.

“No? You don’t hesitate to mention them every time I indulge.”

A wave of tiredness washes over him. He looks at the clock and sees that they’re entering the second hour and haven’t gotten any further in solving this. Hell, what did he even say this time?

“I wish you’d slow down. Who knows what it’s doing to your body?”

“I’m young, why not live while I’m alive?”

Brian tugs at his hair, “I don’t _care_ about the smoking or the drinking or drugs. You could go out an party every night and I wouldn’t care!”

“Then why are we wasting time on this?”

He moves his hands to his eyes and presses for a second. Might as well strip himself raw. There’s not much left protecting his heart either way, “because there are some nights you don’t come home.”

“And you think I’m cheating on you?”

He bites down on his instant response, the one that’s meant to only hurt, “no. I trust you, Freddie, always have. I just worry.”

Freddie crosses his arms, “I’m a grown man.”

“And I’m your partner,” Brian’s voice breaks, “I’m not asking you to wear a cat collar, just that you come home at some point. I don’t want the first time I see you in a day to be you stumbling in drunk to the studio.”

“So, it’s all about what Brian wants?”

Brian feels his jaw drop, “that’s not what I said, and you know it.”

They stare at each other, and Brian is the first to back down.

“What do you want? Why are you doing this?”

“I’m filling the in-between moments.”

“The… in between moments? In between what?”

Freddie waves his hand in the air. Encompassing something only he knows. Brian lowers his arm and digs his nails into his side. He bites his cheek and looks away.

“And I can’t do that? Roger or John can’t do that? What about Mary, Ratty, Phoebe, Miami, they can’t do that?”

“You don’t understand it,” Freddie replies, “what it’s like.”

“Maybe if you spoke plain English or tried to explain it,” Brian snaps.

“Roger and John have their families. Mary is looking for hers,” Freddie shrugs.

Brian pretends he doesn’t feel the words like a slap, “what am I?”

“You’re the same as them. You fit right in roughhousing with John’s boys or holding Roger’s little one.”

“Freddie if that’s what you want-”

“That’s what _you_ want! You want it to look like we’re some happy couple.”

“Aren’t we?” Brian frowns, “Freddie we’ve been together for _years,_ nothing’s changed other than we’ve gotten older.”

“Stagnation,” Freddie curls the word, “and are we happy? You spend half your days avoiding the studio.”

“Not because of you, Hot Space… well, it’s not really my scene, and I’m still cross at John for Back Chat.”

“You mope around the house whenever you don’t go in.”

Brian closes his eyes and presses his nails harder into his side. His jaw sets and he’s finally mapped out where this conversation is going to end. Maybe he had been pretending to not see it. Maybe he had been _playing_ at the happy stable couple. Freddie and he certainly aren’t anything like John and Veronica.

“And the partying and drugs make you happy?”

“They pass the time.”

Brian bites down on his cheek so hard it bleeds, “I hope one day you’re as happy as you’re pretending to be then. As happy as you act on stage.”

“Brian?” Freddie’s voice loses the anger for the first time during the conversation.

“Go off with Prenter and his friends, since that’s obviously what you want to be doing.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake Brian, first you don’t want me going out and now you do? Pick something.”

“I have. You have.”

Brian closes his eyes for a second to gather himself. He’s pretty sure his nails have broken the skin by now.

“We just haven’t picked the same thing.”

He looks at Freddie’s face. It’s neutral, but Brian can see the slight hurt in his eyes. It hurts him to know that what he’s doing is causing that, but this will help in the long run.

“If you can’t be happy with me and maybe I’m not happy with you, I know I’m not with your actions, then we should be done.”

“Brimi what are you saying?”

“Don’t bring out that nickname now,” Brian closes his eyes again, “We need some time.”

“How much?”

Brian swirls the truth around in his mouth.

“Whenever Queen gets out of this pit or whenever we four can work in the studio together without being hammered or wanting to kill each other.”

He couldn’t say it and he swallows the poison.

“You’d be willing to talk then?”

“Sure. Fred go out with your friends, you’re supposed to meet them half six?”

Freddie blinks and hesitates, and Brian can still see the man he fell (is) in love with.

“Can we,” Freddie clears his throat, “can we talk about this when I come back. I won’t be out late.”

“Fine.”

It’s his last chance. The last thing Brian can offer without completely leaving himself empty. Freddie gives him a bright smile and then hurries to get ready. He was doing that before this argument started.

Right. He brought up Prenter again. That’s what started this.

* * *

At 3:30 in the morning he grabs his suitcase and guitar case. He makes sure that his note was clear on the fridge and that the cats had food.

Roger leans against his car, looking torn.

“I’m sorry,” Brian mumbles, “it’s late.”

As always Roger reads between the lines, “it isn’t like you didn’t give him a fair shake.”

“I don’t want you to feel like I’m making you choose.”

“You aren’t,” Roger shrugs and grabs his suitcase, “we still have Queen.”

“Is that all we have?”

“Hell if I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, leave your thoughts and comments below or hit me up on tumblr!


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